“I’m not going to repeat it twice, dress your son warm, put on your coat and we’re going to the park.”
I tried to object, but she just wouldn’t listen. “Out, I said! I can understand you locking yourself up, but allow me to remind you that you have a son who just started walking, and like a good mother you should encourage it as much as you can and not stare into space like you recently do, completely ignoring your own child.”
“I’m not ignoring him.” Ashamed, I quickly picked up Ernie from the blanket where he was playing with his toys and went to dress him for a walk.
It was true that a couple of times I was so immersed in my thoughts that I didn’t notice him bringing me a toy or handing me a book to read, and Ursula who would quite often bring Greta and spend an afternoon with Ernie and I, had just rubbed my face into it.
Five minutes later, when all four of us entered the park, very slowly, because I had to hold Ernie’s hand as he wanted to walk and not be carried, Ursula took a deep breath of fresh spring air.
“Ah, how nice it is! I love how New York smells in the spring, don’t you?”
“Berlin smelled better.” I shrugged after a pause.
“You’re just saying it because you’re homesick.”
“Maybe you’re right.” I pulled my son’s hand up so he couldn’t reach with the other for some leaf on the ground. “Ernie, don’t touch that, it’s dirty.”
“I can’t believe how big he is.” Ursula smiled at the boy. “It feels like just yesterday I held him, a tiny baby, in my arms. And look, he’s walking already. Greta didn’t start walking until she was one.”
“He does everything faster than the others.” I smirked. “Very impatient, just like his father. You know, the more he grows, the more he becomes just like Ernst, in every single way. He smiles the same, he frowns the same, he even throws his toys or his spoon when he gets angry. He never even saw his father, how is it possible that he resembles him so?”
“Strong genes?” Ursula suggested with a smile and got serious again. “Are they still calling out witnesses only? No defendants yet?”
“Yes, they are. Reichsmarschall Goering took the stand yesterday.”
“Really? I didn’t see it in the papers.”
“It’ll probably be out tomorrow, I only heard his speech last night.”
“What was he saying?”
“All the right things, actually. He said that half of the defendants shouldn’t even be there because they are merely outlets paying for Hitler’s and Himmler’s deeds. He said that he alone is willing to take fault for every single defendant because he was basically Hitler’s right hand, and if someone has to answer for all the atrocities, it should be him, not the rest of the defendants. It was very noble of him to say.”
“What did the judges say?”
“Nothing, what were they supposed to say? That they will let everyone go? Of course not.”
“But in theory Goering is right. It was them on top who gave orders, and everybody else had nothing better to do but follow them.”
“You don’t have to tell me that, I know exactly how the Reich was functioning. They don’t.”
“How can they judge us then if they have no clue how it all worked?”
“They’re the victors.” I shrugged. “They can do whatever they want.”
“But it contradicts all the laws of an impartial court system! They aren’t impartial! It’s the winners judging the defeated, how is it fair?”
“It’s not.”
“They should have invited some neutral country to judge them. Switzerland, for instance. That would be impartial.”
“To risk the things not going their way?” I skeptically raised my eyebrow. “They want them all dead. They can’t allow some other country to interfere with their plans.”
“I’m sure they won’t sentence them all to death. Otherwise why go through all the trouble of establishing the court? They could have just executed them all like Stalin suggested.”
“It’s politics, don’t you understand? They don’t want to look bad compared to the Russian ‘savages.’ So they came up with the idea of ‘fair international trials.’ This way they look civilized while still doing whatever they want to do.”
Ursula went quiet for a moment and then looked at me inquisitively.
“Why are you so upset about it? Aside from Ernst being there, of course. I mean, it’s your people who suffered the most, why are you defending the men who took part in their extermination?”
I thought about her question for a while and finally answered, “Because I’m basing their guilt on Ernst’s case. He didn’t even want the position of the Chief of the RSHA and now he’s blamed for being the second Heydrich, cruel, hungry for power and guilty of the murder of millions of people. He was just following the orders, Ursula. And I’m thinking that most of them did the same thing, that’s why I absolutely support Goering’s point that they shouldn’t even be there. The main arch-criminals are all either dead or gone, hiding somewhere in South America while these people have to pay for everything. Personally I don’t have any hard feelings to most of them, except for Streicher maybe. What are the rest of them doing there? Why is Ribbentrop there? Because he signed that agreement against Poland? Well, the Soviets signed it too. And that former assistant of Goebbels’, what is he doing there? He was a radio guy for God’s sake, not some calloused SS-Totenkopf killer! And even speaking of the SS… if my brother Norbert was still alive, he would have been tried there too as a war criminal. A Jew with fake papers, who was forced to become an Auschwitz guard. And if I wasn’t working for the Allies, I would have been too. And Heinrich. Do you see how dualistic it all is? I’m a Jew, and I’m protecting the former Nazi leaders because it’s not as simple as the Tribunal is trying to show to everybody. So many of us didn’t have a choice to make. Except for all those fanatics like Hitler, Goebbels, Himmler, Heydrich and Müller, who didn’t even have the courage to face the consequences of their actions, the rest of the defendants in that court room are nothing more than ordinary staff members following their orders. I know that some of them even tried to resign, but Hitler wouldn’t accept their resignations. What else were they supposed to do? Have themselves and their families killed for treason? Of course not. They are people and wanted to live. It doesn’t justify what they were doing in any sense, but I’m just saying that I saw that other side of the coin too, and I understand them.”
In silence we strolled to one of the benches and sat down. Greta took Ernie by the hand and took him to see a tiny flower she found. Since we moved to New York they were spending a lot of time together and Greta was enjoying the role of a big sister.
“When is Ernst taking the stand?” Ursula turned to me again.
“In April, I think. Goering won’t be done for another couple of weeks, I’m sure, with all the things he’s being accused of. Then they’re supposed to start hearing other defendants’ cases.”
“How good do you think his chances are?” The blonde bit her lip after asking me the question, which made me stay up for too many sleepless nights in a row.
“Not good at all,” I answered honestly and looked away. “They want to make Ernst responsible for everything Himmler and Müller did.”
“But Himmler was his boss, and Müller was acting independently most of the time, Ernst didn’t even want to concern himself with the Gestapo affairs.”
“Nobody wants to hear that.”
“But… can’t he prove it? I mean, there must be a way… what about his former adjutant? He can confirm that it was him mostly who was stamping all those orders while Ernst didn’t even see them, no?”
“Georg died defending Berlin.”
“Oh…” Ursula rubbed her temple, a thoughtful expression wrinkling her forehead. “Well, maybe some other agents who used to work for him? They can confirm that he was mostly concerned with the intelligence work.”
“Their statements won’t mean anything. They were simple agents, no
t the immediate staff members. They didn’t know who sanctioned the orders and who signed them. Georg and I did, but I’m technically dead too.”
“What about Schellenberg?”
I laughed. “Schellenberg? He hates Ernst! For Ernst it will be better not to have a witness at all than have a witness like Schellenberg! He’ll drown him!”
“You think he’s going to lie to the judges?”
“Schellenberg? Most certainly he will, especially to cover his own back. He’ll dump all the guilt on Ernst in a second without blinking an eye.”
My son, holding Greta’s hand since he still wasn’t too steady on his feet, walked up to me and handed me a little flower, smiling with all his six teeth. That simple expression of the child’s love touched me to tears and I affectionately kissed my boy’s pretty face.
“Thank you, my angel! That is very sweet of you! Mommy loves you very much!”
“Mama!” Ernie stretched his arms to me and I picked him up and sat him down on my knees.
He recently started saying his first words, and was communicating perfectly using just ‘Mama,’ ‘Papa,’ ‘Dada,’ ‘no’ and the German version of yes – ‘ja,’ which was probably easier for him to pronounce. Following agent Foster’s advice Heinrich and I were trying to speak mostly English to Ernie, so it would be easier for him later at school; but for some reason, whenever I was showing my son Ernst’s photograph, I would involuntarily switch to my mother tongue. Surprisingly, the clever baby picked it up and started to easily differentiate his ‘Papa’ Ernst from his ‘Dada’ (Ernie’s version of ‘Daddy’) Heinrich.
“But there must be something that can be done.” After Ernst saved Max, Ursula’s husband, she immediately proclaimed the Chief of the RSHA the noblest man in Germany and her personal hero. I was very grateful that she didn’t forget his good deed and that she was worrying about Ernst almost as much as I was.
“Ursula, I’m spending my days and nights thinking of what can be done. I didn’t come up with anything. I hope that he does though, he was always smarter than me. He always had a plan.”
“I’m sure he has it now. And hey, he’s a lawyer, who if not him can come clean out of all this? It’s his profession after all.”
Ursula tried to pacify me with the argument that Heinrich was normally using. I nodded to her just like I always nodded to my husband.
“I hope he does, Ursula. I hope he does.”
Chapter 14
April, 1946
For the past three hours I went from an ecstatic state of the utmost excitement from hearing Ernst’s voice again to the blood-curling horror after I heard how the prosecution was handling his case. They would interrupt him as soon as he’d try to explain how the matters were and why, and swept all those explanations away as irrelevant to the case.
“Stick to the questions you were asked… I don’t see how it’s important… Please, only answer ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to this question… You don’t need to go into details, I think everything is clear on this matter…”
Even Heinrich, who was listening to Ernst’s interrogation together with me, couldn’t contain an angry exclamation. “What are they doing?! That’s not a court procedure, they wouldn’t even let him explain things!”
I lowered my head even more and kept biting my lip till I started tasting blood in my mouth.
Dr. Kauffmann, Ernst’s attorney, proceeded.
“When did you hear for the first time that the camp in Auschwitz was an extermination camp?”
“Himmler told me that in 1944, in February or March. That is, he did not tell me, he admitted it.”
“What was your attitude upon learning this?”
“I had no knowledge of Hitler’s order to Heydrich regarding the final solution of the Jewish problem at the time I took up my office. In the summer of 1943 I gathered from the foreign press and through the enemy radio—”
“This is not an answer to your question,” the President interrupted Ernst once again and addressed Dr. Kauffmann. “You asked him what he did when he found out that Auschwitz was an extermination camp. He is now making a long speech about Heydrich. You asked him for his attitude. He is now telling us a long story about something having to do with Heydrich.”
“Please, try to give me a direct answer to that question,” Dr. Kauffmann spoke again. “What was your attitude after you heard about that? Answer quite briefly and concisely, please.”
“Immediately after receiving knowledge of this fact, I fought, just as I had done previously, not only against the final solution, but also against this type of treatment of the Jewish problem. For that reason I wanted to explain how through my intelligence service I became acquainted with the whole Jewish problem, and what I did against it.”
“We still don’t know what you did,” the President sternly concluded.
“What did you do? I’m asking you for the last time,” Dr. Kauffmann echoed.
“In order to explain what I did I must explain how I reacted, just as I have to tell you what I heard about it.”
“Just explain to us your reactions.”
“First I protested to Hitler and the next day to Himmler. I did not only draw their attention to my personal attitude and my completely different conception which I had brought over from Austria and to my humanitarian qualms, but immediately, from the first day, I concluded practically every one of my situation reports right to the very end by saying that there was no hostile power that would negotiate with a Reich, which had burdened itself with this guilt. Those were the reports I put to Himmler and Hitler, particularly pointing out also that the intelligence sector would have to create atmosphere for discussions with the enemy.”
“When did the Jewish persecution end?”
“October 1944.”
“Do you want to say that it’s due to your intervention?” I imagined how Dr. Kauffmann arched his brow skeptically as he was saying it.
“I am firmly convinced that this is chiefly due to my intervention, although a number of others also worked toward the same end. But I do not think that there was anyone who kept dinning into Himmler’s ears every time he met him or that there was anyone who would have spoken so openly and frankly with such self-abnegation to Hitler as I did.”
Just as I clasped my hands together hoping how those answers would bring a light to what Ernst really did, the prosecution skipped right to a different matter, completely ignoring the previous one, just like they did every single time when something was in Ernst’s favor. But as soon as I heard the name under yet another affidavit, I completely buried my face in my hands. It was signed by witness Schellenberg.
“Oh, God,” I heard Heinrich whispering under his breath as he squeezed his head between his hands and leaned closer to the radio. “Why do I think that he’s a witness to the prosecution, not to the defendant?”
“It’s only natural,” I agreed bitterly, my worst fears becoming a reality in front of my eyes. “Schellenberg will have his revenge, at last.”
“This is an affidavit from the witness Schellenberg.” Dr. Kauffmann started reading. “According to it, in 1944 a meeting took place between Kaltenbrunner and Müller. Kaltenbrunner is supposed to have stated that actions of the populations against the terrorist fliers must not be interfered with; that, on the contrary, the hostile attitude of the population must be encouraged. Do you know Schellenberg?”
“Regarding Schellenberg I must say—”
“In a few sentences, please.”
“With reference to his credibility in the matter of this document, that he was a protégé of Heydrich’s and when I took office—”
“He wants to know whether you know Schellenberg,” the President interrupted Ernst for the millionth time. “That is the question you can answer. The question was, ‘Do you know Schellenberg?’ And he goes off into a long speech without answering the question.”
“Bastards!” Heinrich shook his head.
“Did you know Schellenberg? Yes or no?” Dr. Kauffmann
demanded.
“Yes, of course. He was the Chief of Department VI,” Ernst answered with unmasked irritation. “That statement is not true and I should like to give you a reason so that the Tribunal can evaluate this statement. Schellenberg was Himmler’s most intimate friend. He is the man who, on Himmler’s behalf, established contact with the Swedish Count Bernadotte. He was the man, who at the very last minute, through M. Muehse in Switzerland established a connection, which was used to permit a few Jewish prisoners to go to Switzerland, the purpose of which was to create quickly a favorable impression for Himmler and Schellenberg abroad. He is the man, who started an action to make an agreement with an organization of rabbis in the United States whereby they were to get him a favorable press in some of the larger newspapers in America. I have criticized Himmler for these tricks and complained and discredited them with Hitler, stating that it was demeaning to the cause and the Reich. I said, the only correct way would be to establish contact with the International Red Cross immediately. I prejudiced Himmler before President Burckhardt, and forced him to adopt a different attitude in this question by asking Burckhardt personally to visit these camps.”
They cut him short there, and then later again, when he tried to explain how he helped to end the persecution of the church – the fact that was highly praised abroad and one of the Swiss papers even wrote an article about. I still remembered the proud look on Ernst’s face when he was waving that newspaper in front of me and demanding that I should kiss him for it.
“Why would I kiss you for that? It’s the Catholic Church and I’m Jewish!” I was playfully pushing him off.
“I can’t stop the persecution of all churches at once!” A fake discontent face, right before he caught me in his embrace and got his kiss after all. “Your church is next in line, I promise.”
“Synagogue,” I corrected him, causing another fake angry look of his squinted brown eyes.
“You, Jews, always have to be different, don’t you?” he laughed somewhere in my neck, his warm breath sending tiny electric tingles down my spine. I remembered it all like yesterday and even touched my skin where he kissed me back then, as if still sensing his presence. And then I clenched my fists near my chest, for the first time admitting the inevitable reality.
The Girl from Berlin: War Criminal's Widow Page 20